I have often puzzled over just exactly how the imagination might work. This morning I followed a chink of light that took me into a shard of understanding. On a beach, tucked into a far corner lies a cave. Here the force of tides has found purchase and over eons has carved a reminder of all its turbulence. The power that created these waves has traveled from across the oceans and left its mark on the walls without and within this granite chamber.
So to do the elemental forces, stirred by emotion and actions from faraway places, peoples and times, find a soft spot in some open mind to paint their pictures as a record of their existence. Finding these pictures is like paging through a photograph album. Stories are told and truths are surrendered.
These scenes are not a figment of my imagination they are whispers from Angels given as a gift so that I may know the truths of life.
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